The Few Times When The Dam Breaks
by genielou
Summary: Artemis goes to Watchtower after a hard day's work of heroing to see him, to remember him.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own Young Justice or any of its characters. No profit is being made from releasing this fictional story.

**Author's Note**: The last episode was just so devastating to me, and I hate that we won't get closure unless DC or Cartoon Network decides to continue YJ for another season.

Here is just a little moment with our favorite archer after Wally disappeared. Artemis is at the watch tower, staring at his hologram, after a hard day's work of heroing.

Hope you guys like it. Please review if you do. If you don't like it, you can still review but don't be too mean, okay? Keep in mind that I don't have a beta, kay? :)

**The Few Times When The Dam Breaks**

**by genielou**

She had a vague idea of what time it was. But that's all it was—a vague idea. When twenty-feet thick, reinforced, glass-paned windows only showed a vast ocean of black nothingness with the occasional winking lights of the stars, time tended to escape an individual. It wasn't as if she cared all that much. She was all alone in that huge expanse of a room that simulated the greenery of Earth, where holographic representations of the planet's fallen heroes were erected in their memory. It was quiet there; no one to call to her, and nothing to summon the hero within her. There, she was just plain and simple Artemis; a woman with nowhere to go and nowhere to run. In a place where the cries of the suburban cities could not be heard, all there was to do in such a place was to think about how life was and how life will be.

How life was…

A tiny smile escapes her lips as she imagines the good old days; the moments that she had never invested in preserving before, but she now desperately tried to constantly keep at the forefront of her mind. Like the time when they fought so hard for the last slice of pizza while lounging with the team in the common room. She had fought him tooth and nail, but eventually, speed won over strength; and she couldn't do anything but seethe in anger as he stuck his tongue out at her before boyishly engulfing his prize.

"_Better luck next time, Harpy! Ha ha ha ha!"_

Those were the kinds of memories that she tried to preserve every day. She tried to remember all of the details of her past life (although sometimes she was unsuccessful). From the event of the memory, to the time that it occurred, to the color of the shirt she wore at the time. She tried to remember all of it.

Like the time when they had first met—she remembers that sharp contrast of his freckles against his pale skin, and that ridiculous expression on his face when he realized that the Batman had just witnessed him wiping out onto the debriefing floor. She remembers the hostility that he threw at her, upon finding out that she was the team's recruitment for an archer instead of his long time friend, Roy. She remembers feeling angry at the initial rejection, at the instinct of lashing out at the resident "Baywatch" to teach him a lesson in courtesy and respect. That first impression had stuck to them like gum underneath a shoe, and it made things so difficult for her, him, and the rest of the team. She had once believed that if they had met under different circumstances, it wouldn't have taken so damn long for them to actually realize how they truly felt for each other. But—really, it didn't matter. Just like a shoe, with enough steps and scuffling, the gum eventually scraped away. Not completely, but that was okay. Those little bits and pieces that were too stubborn to go away were reminders of who they truly were to each other, and what they had been through.

"_You have nothing to prove… not to me, okay?"_

Those memories were the only things that were keeping her sane. If it weren't for them, she would have broken down a long time ago.

And the small moments that were so easily dismissed… she was even more desperate to protect those from completely dissipating from her mind. There were so many of them, and although she knew that it was impossible to try to remember every single one of them, she tried. She tried very hard. She tried to remember every touch of his hand, every glint of his eyes, every snarky comment that every escaped his mouth, every pout, every glare, every smile…

That very first smile… the very first sincere smile that he ever gave her; she had gone back to that moment so many times that she was confident she could re-tell it like it had occurred just yesterday. Before that smile, he always directed snide smirks and condescending, smug grins towards her. They were always insulting, and meant to start a fight with her. But at that moment, when they had survived their very first partnered mission against the unexpectedly wily Winslow Schott (along with his gigantic killer toys); he turned to her slowly, and the corners of his lips lifted to a real, earnest smile. He had said something along the lines of "_We did it_," but honestly, she didn't hear anything else after that. She just couldn't quite tear herself away from that smile that she had always loudly expressed to loathe, but really secretly didn't.

"_Not bad, Beautiful. You're welcome, by the way. I don't think I've ever had to rescue a harpy so many times in one day."_

She releases a satisfied smile as she tried to envision the hologram's smile shift in response to her presence. Her imagination has really improved since she had started this practice. At least every few days, she would take the zeta tube to the Watchtower to stand in front of it, in front of him—to be with him. Her presence had become such a habitual incidence that whoever was on watch duty doesn't bother to check her in anymore. Whether it be Red Tornado, Black Canary, or Captain Atom—they always assumed why she was there so they just let her through with no questions asked. The first time she had come alone, with the intention of going to him, it was the Batman who was monitoring the computer screens. He did the same, and she suspected that he was the one who started the procedure first. He merely glanced at her, nodded, and then went back to his work. It was likely that he knew why she was there. He was the Batman, after all.

She takes a step forward to get a better look at him, and immediately regrets it as a sharp pain shot up her right leg. She winces and gasps a curse as she instinctively lifts her foot to try to assuage the pain.

"_Just this once, can you please act like the girl in this relationship and let me, the guy, take care of you? Okay, good. Now shut up and lie down. I have to clean up that cut first."_

This was the reason why M'gann frowned upon her coming there so much, especially right after a mission. The White Martian felt that she should allow herself rest and healing before taking the journey up into space, but she believed differently. She believed that seeing him, after taking on the baddies or almost dying, is what helped her heal faster. Seeing him, seeing the unmoving, representation of him, is what reminded her of why she was still fighting. Seeing him, imagining him looking at her and nodding at her, showing her that he approved of her continued commitment to the good fight, is what kept her going. So no matter how beaten up she was, how bloodied or exhausted or traumatized; she still went there, where he stood unmoving with a soft smile on his face, looking on to the world he loved so much, to the world that she now protected with her own life.

She takes another step forward, and another, and another, until she was only a few feet away. Putting unnecessary strain on what felt like a sprained ankle was probably not the best idea, but she didn't care. Just like the other times, she would endure this injury too. At least until she was done looking at him, memorizing him, embedding the sight of him in her mind. If she didn't, he might not protect her in her next mission.

"_Sooo, I'm your ninja boyfriend, huh?"_

Shifting her weight onto her other leg, she tries to ignore her heightened breathing as more pain seem to come from random parts of her body. There was a deep gash on the side of her waist, she knew of that. She had barely dodged a fatal stab of a machete only an hour ago. The other pains must be the smaller cuts and bruises she had endured. Oh well. Just another day in the life of Tigress, a.k.a. Artemis, a.k.a. college drop-out turned full-time hero.

"You shouldn't be on your feet, Artemis."

She turns only slightly, though she didn't really need to. After years of friendship, she would know the clone's voice anywhere.

"I'm fine," she assures him. "It's just a tiny sprain. Nothing I can't handle."

He approaches her slowly, and the look in his eyes was what she hated most about the public knowledge that she comes here. There was sadness there. And sympathy.

"It's not a sprain," he starts as he shakes his head a little. "I can hear the grinding. Your ankle is dislocated, and two—three of your metatarsals are fractured."

Artemis scoffs. "And here I thought I nailed that landing."

There it was. Worry. Disappointment. Fear. M'gann and Kaldur had given her that same look too many times before.

"I'm fine," she insists. She turns back to look at him again, now with a slight shuffle of her much-injured foot on the perfectly-cut, green grass. She wished Conner would go away, but he won't. She knew he won't. He never did, and she doubts that he would start now.

She feels the air shift beside her and as expected, he was there, silent and supportive. She couldn't help but notice that he had placed himself to her right, where her ankle was in danger of giving out. He was always like that. No matter that he barely spoke two words at a time, he was still Conner. The clone-turned-superhero had always been tough on the outside, but soft and cuddly on the inside.

They both stand there, completely mute aside from the occasional sigh and clearing of the throat. Neither really knew for how long they were there, only that the silence was comfortable and welcoming.

Her glance momentarily went to him when he lifted a hand to run through his hair. A smile graces her features again as she remembers the always unkempt red hair that never obeyed her or its master. Even after they had retired from the heroing job, his hair was always like a bird's nest. She suspected that he used his super-speed whenever he had to go to the grocery store (even though he wasn't supposed to). He denied it, of course.

She makes a mental note to thank whoever made the hologram of him. The details were so profoundly accurate. Even the hair. It was sticking out, here and there, just as his had. Her only complaint, though, were the eyes. They were hidden behind those thick goggles. She had expressed to him, more than once, how she disliked the goggles because they hid the color of his eyes. He never took that comment seriously and would usually dismiss it. But, it always amazed her how, even though his responses were lighthearted and cheesy, they were still honest and genuine.

"_My eyes are your property, Beautiful. I only take the goggles off for you."_

She suddenly has a longing to look at his eyes. Those green orbs had always captivated her; took her breath away. She could look into them forever and still not be satisfied with the amount of time granted for her to be lost in them. Her own eyes searched through the holographic goggles, to please her yearning. She narrowed her eyes to try to see the green behind those thick lenses, but she couldn't. There was only a shadow. A shallow, gray, space where his green eyes should be shining like rare emerald gems.

"I want to see his eyes," she says, so unexpectedly that Conner almost jumped at the sound of her voice. He nods, as if in agreement. "I wish there was a way to take those goggles off."

Conner smiles. "I've always been curious. Does he have only one—I mean, use the same one all the time? Or does he have a bunch of those?"

She chuckles lightly. "Batman had a bunch of them specially made for him, but he usually only used a particular one. The one that his Uncle Barry made for him when he first became Kid Flash," she offered. "I told him so many times that it would break if he doesn't switch goggles every now and then, but he never listened. Wally was always stubborn like that."

Her eyes widens as she realizes what she had said.

"Wally," she says again, only this time, it was a whisper.

"_That's my name. Don't wear it out."_

Her nose began to sting and her eyes blurs. She hadn't said his name in so long, not even in her mind.

"Wally," she murmurs. She tries to regain control of herself, but her shoulders only shook in her effort. "Wally…"

She feels strong arms envelope her in a tight embrace, and this causes her to shake almost violently. The comfort the she seeks so desperately, every hour of every day, could not be contented by big broad shoulders and overly muscular arms. She craved for his slimmer build, for his long, lanky stems that could wrap around her own waist and shoulders so easily. She needed to feel his runner's body against her own, to run her fingers through the thick, red bush atop his head. Her deepest desire was to be able to bury her face into his slender, freckled neck, to kiss the skin under his earlobe. Her most desperate wish was to be able look into his eyes and have him assure her that he wasn't gone, that he was still right there with her, alive and well.

"_The Wall-man is in the house!"_

She squeezes her eyes shut to try to hold in her tears. She vowed that she wouldn't cry. She couldn't. Not anymore. She was done with crying. She had to stay strong. For him.

"It's alright, Artemis. Just let go," Conner coos into her ear as he tightens his hold on her. "I'm here. We're all here for you. It's alright. Shhh, it's alright."

Her hands balls into fists against his chest. It was all she could do to not scream.

"_Babe, you rock. You know that?"_

"Wally!" she gasps.

She finally loses what little control over herself that she had. Her shoulders shake so much that Conner had to lift her slightly off the ground to keep her from jarring her injured ankle. Her sobs were loud and frantic. The distress in her cries was so much that Conner had to squeeze his eyes shut to keep himself from screaming along with her.

"Wally!" she wails.

"_Hey, Beautiful."_

"Wally!"

"_I don't have to say it, do I? Yup, you're gonna make me say it. I knew you'd make me say it."_

"Wally!"

"_I love you, Babe. But you already knew that, didn't you? Ha, of course you did."_

His soft smile doesn't waver as her screams echo throughout the vast expanse of the room.


End file.
